Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kyrgyzstan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mary Jane Girls to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Pretty Things,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
Brothers Johnson,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Hill,
Niagra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Delta 5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed,
The Young Rascals,
Kenny Larkin,
Nick Fraelich,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Durutti Column,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Freddie Wadling,
Livin' Joy,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacques Brel,
The Moleskins,
The Blackbyrds,
Ponytail,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
Sound Behaviour,
Ornette Coleman,
Suicide,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Lydon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Subhumans,
JFA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fear,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
Brick,
Eddi Front,
OOIOO,
Bootsy Collins,
CMW,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Sonics,
Black Moon,
the Soft Cell,
Mars,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.